Detroit Free Press

First of all, Mike -- and I assume that's your real name, and not something you made up to hide the fact that you ...

Scotty Bowman loses it. Not his temper, his ring. He had been playing with it, rolling it around, and it flew out of his hand and rolled under an orange seat in the Tiger Stadium mezzanine. Next thing you know, the 61-year-old coach of the Red Wings -- the man some call a genius, others call a dictator, but none, absolutely none, calls warm and fuzzy -- is poking under the seats like a kid, amidst the peanut shells and hot dog wrappers, trying to get his ring back."It went over here," he tells some fans, who quickly join the search. "You see it? . . ."

Philadelphia, we could hate. Philadelphia, we could make fun of. We could start with its soggy soft pretzels, move quickly to the "Rocky" movies, Legionnaires' disease -- then hit 'em with Mitch (Wild Thing) Williams, who served up the mushball that ended the World Series.Pow! Philly would have been easy. Had the Flyers made the Stanley Cup finals, the war between Detroit and Philadelphia would have been a beautiful thing, two great blue-collar sports towns hurling insults up and down the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

It's a long walk to the Red Wings locker room at the farthest end of the arena tunnel, past the storage areas and the electrical wires, and past the benches where the players' wives sit and wait for their husbands.

So this is how you make history. You wait until after the midnight hour, double overtime, when the voices are gone ...

CHICAGO -- As someone once said, if you're going to lose a game by forgetting your style, getting slammed on the boards, misplacing your scoring touch, half-hearting your defense, and generally lacking the speed, strength and desire that brought you your success, you might as well do it when you're up three games to none.

CHICAGO -- When the moment comes, he should be out there. Whenever the Red Wings jump into that glorious pile at ...